The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, December 24, 1948, Image 15
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1948
THE NEWBERRY SUN
I
11**11111
Sam Cook
BEER PARLOR
1401 MARTIN ST.,
on earrij...
pob to til
totoarti men
“Peace on earlh .. . good will toward men.”
... is again repeated in every story and
song of all Christendom. Onee more it w ill
be our privilege to tell the beautiful story
of the Nativity, and now more than ever, wc
need to weigh the implications of the Christ
mas message.
Service Finance Company
1506 MAIN STREET
Something
For
Sally
By Papinia J. Knowles
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It was enough to put a fel
low in a morbid state of mind.
Last Christmas he’d thought
when he gave Sally the inex
pensive little china dinner set,
next Christmas I’ll give her
something really nice. Some
thing that she can wear and
enjoy. Something expensive.
It’ll not be practical to fit our
Christmas budget, because by
then I’ll be making more. The
tide was bound to turn by
next Christmas.
Well, it had turned all right.
Fate could have been less cal
lous in the direction to which
it had turned the tide. It was
even worse this Christmas than
it was last. At least Sally
wasn’t out making the living
and he, a big hulk of a man,
staying home.
The doctor had said he’d
overcome the heart condition
with prolonged rest.
People were talking. Bill
knew. He’d been standing
near the living room door the
other day when he’d heard
Kate Tyler, their neighbor,
talking to Sally in the kitchen.
“Well, it just looks a shame
that you, such a frail little
thing, mut work. Bill looks
the picture of health. He
weighs something near one
hundred eighty pounds, doesn’t
he, Sally?” Kate said, and Bill
had visioned with burning re
sentment her sharp, in every
body’s business nose twitch
with inquisitiveness.
Bill visioned, too, Sally’s
pretty proud head lift when her
voice had come in quick sensi
tive rebellion, “I believe it’s
my affair about working. I
really don’t need to work. We
have plenty saved up to take
us through until Bob is able
to go back on his job. I’m
working because I want to.”
He’d felt like a cad. There
wasn’t another guy in the
whole universe had a wife like
Sally, who through her loyal
ty would even tell a falsehood.
Sally didn’t deserve the hard
ship he was , giving her. And
now with Christmas upon them
and no money of his own, un
less he sold his best suit of
clothes to the re-sale shop
down the street, he felt it
would be even better for his
old heart to quit ticking than
to face it and have Sally say,
“Oh, you didn’t need to give
anything, Bill. All I want is
you! We’ll have a real Christ
mas when you get well.”
Bill put one his overcoat, hat
and galoshes. It was about
time to meet Sally coming
home from work.
Cold rain interspersed the
snow and already the highway
in front of their place was
getting coated with ice. Cars
moved along cautiously..
Their neighbor’s boy. Pike,
eleven, slid by him on a sled.
“Whee-e-e, watch me. Mister
Bill!”
Bill looked up from his over
coat collar. “Hey, be careful!"
he shouted and went into ac
tion with a leap when he saw
the sled carrying the boy from
the sidewalk into the direction
of an approaching car up the
highway.
It all happened in a flash. If
Bill hadn’t been gigantic in
size, muscular and agile with
youth he couldn’t have saved
the boy. “Mian, Pike,” he
panted, standing over him on
the sidewalk, “don’t play along
the street!”
“Aw, I could’ve made it Mis
ter Bill,” Pike said, and dashed
back in the street with his
sled.
A large man emerged hur
riedly from the big car on the
side of the pavement and came
up to Bill.
“Thanks, fellow! Say,” he
said, mopping his forehead,
that was a close call! You
certainly used your head.”
“I snatched him in time,”
Bill said.
The man pulled out his wal
let. “Here,” he said, holding
a crisp bill toward Bill. ‘Take
this fellow.”
“But I don’t want money for
what I did,” Bill protested,
starting to back away.
The man pushed the money
into Bill’s hand. “I’d pay a
thousand or more to escape
what might have happened just
now. Think what Christmas
would have been for me if
it had happened, to say nothing
of the kid’s parents. Thanks
again, fellow — and Merry
Christmas!”
He was gone before Bill
could do anything.
Bill looked down at the mom
ey in his hand. Well, if he
felt that way about it. But
one hundred dollars . . .
He looked up and saw Sally
trudging toward his through
the snow and a happy, secre
tive smile curved his lips sud
denly. He slipped the money
into his billfold and went to
meet her. ^ .
On New
Year’s
Day
By Jessie West
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Amy looked out at the bright
day and w«s about to decide
it was the loveliest New Year’s
Eve she’d seen in years when
she saw Clarabelle Carter
crossing the street; and then
she thought the day wasn’t
lovely at all.
She could hear Clarabelle
talking to MMle as she had
that day in the store when
she’d been standing behind
shelves lined with groceries de-
liberatelly eavesdropping.
“I do declare, it does look
like Amy Wells could get some
one,” Clarabelle had said. “I
suppose she’ll die an old maid.”
Clarabelle hadn’t said any
thing degrading of course. But
from that moment forward,
Amy had wondered if 'people
generally didn’t assume that
old maids just coudn’t find any
takers.
She took her eyes from the
window and Clarabelle going
down the street to look at her
reflection in the dresser mir
ror. At almost forty-five, she
didn’t think she was being ego
tistical in appraising herself
as actually looking thirty-five.
She had very little gray in her
dark hair, and the faint lines
on her face were unnoticeable
against the startling blue of
her eyes and general prettiness
of her features.
There’d been a time when
she reigned as the most popu
lar girl at Obane; she’d been
pictured in the college year
book as “the girl all men
want, but only one can have.”
Of course Clarabelle and the
populace of Donovan, a little
town of three thousand, didn't
know these things.
Amy looked out the window
again, and not seeing Clarabelle
on the street now, the day re
sumed some of the brightness
that Clarabelle’s presence had
blighted, and she got to think
ing about a trip that 20 years
ago had been scheduled for to
morrow. Memory of the tryst
had come to her with the ap
proach of another New Year,
but she had not planned to
enact a promise that years of
separation had cast into youth’s
frivolous dreaming, disappoint
ments and temperamental pride.
Yet, seeing Clarabelle and re
membering what she’d said
about her somehow filled her
with unexpected sentiment.
She had nowhere to go on
New Year’s day, and thought
of the trip suddenly became
entrancing. It would be emo
tionally uplifting to go back
to the old haunts, and no one
would know of her foolish
living just for a day among
memories of a past that
through her own foolhardy
pride, had led her into her
present state of lonely maiden
hood.
“If anything ever separates
us,” Lance had said that night
long ago. “it’d be fun just to
meet again, sort of a tryst af
fair, 2 years hence. Maybe in
Park Rendezvous where we
first met. . .”
They’d talked like that often,
then laughed — because they
knew they’d never separate.
Someday they’d marry.. But
they didn’t marry. Too soon
a trivial misunderstanding had
risen between them, and she’d
had too much pride to admit
that she’d been a little wrong,
too.
It was almost noon when
Amy reached the Park Rendez
vous at Obane on New Year’s
day. She’d have lunch, she
decided, then visit about town.
But already she was sensing
regret for having made the
trip. You couldn’t live in the
past even for a day without re
turning to the present with
greater pain. How well she
knew it now!
She was startled when some
one stood at her shoulder sud
denly.
“Hello,” he said.
Amy’s heart fluttered in re
cognizing his voice. She look
ed up.
“Why Lance—!” It was all
she could manage.
He sat by her at the table
and covered her hand with his.
“Looks like we both remem
bered,” he said, chuckling hap
pily.
“But you married, Lance, I
heard.” She couldn’t help say
ing it.
‘That was false news dear,”
he said. “Do you think—but
you surely know now! I tried
to find you, Amy, but I lost
all trace of you.”
Amy laughed and her cheeks
colored. “I wouldn’t have
come today,” she said wist
fully, “but for a person named
Clarabelle. . . .”
“Clarabelle?”
Amy nodded. “It’s a queer
little story, Lance,” she said,
and then she wondered with a
little gloating, what Clarabelle,
and all of Donovan for that
matter, would think when they
heard!
M€RRY CHRISTMAS
It’s time for Christmas Carols, time for wreaths and
holly, and time especially for us to wish that your
Christmas this year be a jolly success.
City Radio Service
The friendships and patronage
you have accorded us are worthy
indeed of our most hearty and
SINCERE
THANKS
\
May you* CUUiiuuU /to
J/oftfxy and you* Aleut
V*q* L P*o4f2o*ou* j
City Filling Station
— M .Tf)T47.«<YOU,
TCaf)^ of
£very qood wish
for your happiness
at this joyous
Christmas Season
And a sincere thanks for your courtesies in
the past twelve months.
Newberry Packing Company
Heres Hoping You
Always Have a
Merry Christmas
At this season
of Peace and
Good Will, we
cannot fail to try
to express at least
in some measure
our appreciation
to those whom we
have served during the past year. We sincerely
hope you will enjoy the very best Christmas ever.
So here's wishing you all the joys of Christmas
ond a New Year of true happiness. May the com
ing year reward you with the fullest amount of
Mitchell’s Waffle Shop